


Stuck Like Glue

by SculptorOfBeginnings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SculptorOfBeginnings/pseuds/SculptorOfBeginnings
Summary: You just want to get some coffee for your asshole boss, but your newest tattoo has other ideas.





	Stuck Like Glue

Alice smirked as you burst into the office, hair a mess, no makeup, and very much out of breath.

"Almost late again. John is gonna have your ass one of these days."

"You know as well as I do he can’t do shit until the day I’m _actually_ late." You punched your number into the time clock and placed your finger into the slot with thirty seconds to spare.

"And he’s _desperately_ waiting for that day." Her blonde head ducked back down behind the short wall of her cubicle as you took your seat at the desk in front of the office. 

"Yeah well, not gonna happen. I bought a new alarm clock last night I just forgot to hook it up." You rolled your eyes at her snicker and fired up the computer. Lazily, you ran your hands through your hair hoping to create some semblance of respectability before the day really began.

"Sure sure, whatever you say." Alice replied, easily calling you on your bullshit. Just as you finished your hair, the office door flew open and out came John. He was 6 feet of silver-fox gorgeousness, but he had a nasty temper and had been itching to fire you for a while now. When you’d gotten the job as an editor’s assistant you’d been excited, but your first meeting after you'd been hired had quickly gone sour. Both you and John and taken an instant dislike to one another.

That had been a year ago, and since then you’d been increasingly snippy with him, and gotten a few new visible tattoos just to rile him up. He couldn’t fire you because of it, and you knew it only added to his dislike.

"Y/N," He sounded almost surprised as his eyes landed on you patiently waiting for your daily list of tasks, but he hid his disappointment behind a stony facade. 

"Yes sir?" You asked in that sickeningly sweet voice you knew he hated. His eyes narrowed as he held out a thick manilla folder, surely full of old lists or articles he’d deemed unworthy of his grand paper.

"File these. Email me my calendar for the day. Coffee. Breakfast." He dropped the folder on your desk when you didn’t grab it quickly enough and stomped importantly back to his office. A few of the newer girls inside the cubicles jumped as the door slammed, but you sat serenely, pleased that you’d made it on time and foiled his plans once again. You opened the folder and snagged the company card out of a drawer and put the folder in it's place for perusal later.

"The usual?" You asked Alice as you picked up the phone to make the morning call to the coffee house.

"Mhm," was her only response as she studied her computer screen.

 ---

Thirty minutes later saw you standing in the ridiculously long line. It irked you to stand in line just to pick up something you’d already ordered, but John just _had_ to have the best coffee in the city. Knowing you’d be there for a while you pulled out your phone and started playing a game. You were so engrossed you didn’t notice the shady guy walk up and take his place a few people behind you. He was tall, burly, and, if you’d been paying attention, the vibes he was emitting would have put you on edge immediately. People unconciously gave him wide berth as they moved past, his dark eyes boring into anyone who dared step too close. 

Slowly the line moved, one or two people at a time packing inside the tiny building as the daily shuffle continued. The rush of air-conditioning when you stepped in was a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside. An uneasy feeling settled over you suddenly, chilling you in a way that had nothing to do with the cool breeze coming from a nearby vent. After a quick glance around you returned to your phone, brushing it off.  

After what seemed like an eternity you made it to the counter. You put your phone away thankfully, tossing into your deep bag instead putting it into your pocket like usual. It was a decision you'd later come to regret.

You gave your name and waited for your giant order to be brought out. The strange feeling persisted, causing you to give another look around as your fingers lazily drummed on the formica. Finally you noticed the man everyone had been avoiding, and a ping of awareness shot through you. He's where the feeling is coming from, you realized with a growing sense of unease. Quickly, you turned back around. There was no use hoping he hadn’t noticed you noticing him; he’d been glaring right at you for some reason.  Your stuff arrived and you snagged it up, making your way out of the coffee house still feeling the stranger’s eyes on you. Once outside you stood against the stone wall, clutching your two boxes of donuts and carton of six coffee drinks. Deciding whether to take a taxi or walk seemed like an easy task, but you found you really didn't want to go back to work. People passed by in the dozens, and you were happy to  blend in with the crowd for a moment to reflect on the day so far.

The man in the store had given you the creeps, and it bugged you that you couldn't figure out why. Other than being large he really looked normal... His bad vibes were off the charts though.

You were just realizing the burn in your arms from how long you’d been standing there when someone suddenly slammed into you from the side. 

The carton and boxes slammed onto the pavement and you yelled out in shock as your arm followed whoever had hit you of it’s own volition.

"What the fuck?!" You barked out in shock. Your stomach clenched as you caught sight of who had run into you—the creeper from inside. You tried to stand up straight but your arm was stuck to his somehow. He tried to snatch his arm away from you with surprising strength, but your whole body fell into his instead. 

"Get off me bitch!" His eyes flashed black as he tried to pull away again. Your scream caught in your throat as you looked down at your forearms locked together, curiously, right at the spot of your newest tattoo. A tingling sensation was emanating from the spot, but you couldn't process over the roaring panic threatening to well up. 

"I…I don’t…" You shook your head as he pushed in close, twisting your arm into an odd angle as it followed his. It was like someone had superglued you to this terrifying man. He towered over you, glaring down with still solid black orbs. He looked feral as his free hand closed around your throat.

Uncaring strangers passed by, and no one moved to help you as he pushed you against the wall. 

"Let me go witch, before I paint the sidewalk with your guts." A tremble ran through your body as you looked up at him, your elbow slowly beginning to throb. His hand tightened on your windpipe, cutting off any words you may have formed in response. 

A choked sound escaped your mouth as spots started to cloud your vision. He chuckling darkly, loosening his grip.

"Oops, Can’t do a spell if you can’t breathe, huh?" 

You sucked in a loud breath, coughing and sputtering as oxygen returned to your body. He tried to jerk away again, the angry expression returning when he realized you hadn’t released him.

Your mind was only registering confusion as his eyes returned to normal but became no less threatening. You hadn’t _done_ anything…

In a blink he slammed your head against the wall, and the world faded to black. 

 

___

 

The demon had transported the two of you to an abandoned parking-lot behind one of Crowley’s warehouses.

"Boss I don’t fucking know—"

 _"Don’t curse at me, boy."_ Crowley’s voice over the phone stopped him mid sentence. You lay slumped and unconscious at his feet, your arm holding you up awkwardly since it was still stuck to his.

"Sorry sir, but… I don’t know what’s going on. This bitch is stuck to me and I can’t figure out why. I thought she was a witch but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it's a spell by _another_ witch." The insinuation was heavy as he stared down at your face, a feeling of revulsion running through him. _Fucking witches_.

_"Just cut her arm off."_

"Oh." The demon replied simply. "I hadn’t thought of that…"

 _"Oh bloody hell. You’re a **demon**!"_

"Right Majesty, but… You said I had to be discreet for this job. What if I cut her arm off and it doesn't come off? Then I just have a severed arm attached to mine. Thats pretty conspicuous right?" The other end of the line was silent as Crowley gained his composure and tried to remember what the demon’s task even was. He had so many out there doing different tasks he could barely keep up… But in this case, he realized the demon was right. They needed stealth, not a blood bath.

_"Have you even inspected where you’re attached? Look at her arm."_

"What?" The demon asked lamely. 

 _"HER ARM MORON, LOOK AT HER BLOODY ARM."_ Came the King’s angry reply. The demon frowned but complied, trying to pry his skin away from yours. It wouldn’t budge, but he was able to see a small piece of your newest tattoo.

When you’d gone to get the new ink, you hadn’t put much thought into it. A friend had acquired a new book of protection spells, and in there you’d found a sigil supposedly meant to protect you from demons… A circle with a star in the center, and strange glyphs around the spaces. _Perfect_ for pissing John off. 

Unlucky for you, it was a devil’s trap, and a strong one at that. The demon groaned as he realized what he was looking at. 

"We got a problem boss."

 

___

 

"Seriously?" Sam looked incredulously over at Dean as the Impala made it’s way slowly through city traffic.

"Yep. Apparently some poor girl got herself a devils trap tattoo and she’s stuck to a demon." A barely contained smirk told Sam that his brother was holding back laughter. Honestly he was having trouble believing it at all.

Crowley had called them asking for a favor. In 'good faith' he’d called it. 

 _"It’s five minutes away from you. You get to save the girl and exorcise a demon in the process, how can you say no?"_ He’d asked in his smooth but aggravating accent. There was no way Dean or Sam would leave an innocent girl to the mercy of any demon, but they were skeptical of the King’s motives. The situation was something they'd never heard of.

"I don’t know Dean this is too weird. What if it’s a trap?" Dean just shrugged in response.

"If it’s a trap we’ll deal with it. If it’s not, we’ll deal with that too. Hell, maybe she’ll be so grateful that…"

"Nope. No way stop right there Dean. We’re not taking advantage of some girl like that."

"I’m not saying we take advantage! But here’s to hoping she’s hot." The older Winchester shot a wink at his brother as they pulled into the parking lot.Sam glanced around warily as he eyed the place. No one in sight, just as Crowley said. Supposedly they were inside waiting for the brothers, but the King had told them the demon had been kept in the dark about who had been sent to "help" him.Both Winchesters pulled out their weapons as they exited the car and made their way cautiously to the door. 

With a silent nod at Sam, Dean turned the knob and entered.

 

___

 

"Can you shut the fuck up?" The demon snapped angrily down at you, somehow producing the sound of multiple growling voices at once.

After coming back to consciousness you’d screamed, realizing you were no longer in front of the coffee shop and still very much attached to this terrifying person. After the initial screaming, you’d been reduced to sobs, blubbering at him not to kill you. A quick search of your pockets had your panic rising even higher. They were empty. Your frazzled brain only barely remembered tossing your phone into your purse, but it still brought tears of anger at yourself and terror of the stranger back to the surface. It had been an hour since you had woken and still your tears ran freely. Accepting defeat, you’d curled yourself into a ball on the floor as best you could. With him still standing the position was awkward, and he was angled strangely as he attempted to accommodate you without sitting on the ground himself. 

 _I've gone crazy. This is a real mental break. Oh God Oh God Oh God..._   Thoughts flew wildly through your brain, swamping out all rational thought. His temper wasn’t helping at all, only serving to agitate you further. Normally you were cool and collected in the face of complications, but this was _so_ far from normal…

The sound of the door opening not far away made the demon sigh in relief.

"Finally! I was about to just cut her arm off!" This sent you into another round of hysterics and more tugging as you tried to get away. "Stop it!" He hissed down at you. "I told you thats not gonna work…Ah fuck."

His voice dropped as the Winchesters came into view. Dean had the colt leveled at him, and he recognized that God-damned demon killing knife in Sam's large hand. At the sound of his fear you finally looked up, seeing your saviors. You screamed.

"Help! Help me please!" The demon moved to backhand you, but a quick tut from Dean stopped him. 

"Uh uh uh. I don’t think so buddy, not unless you want one between the eyes."

"Whats your name?" The taller one called out. His kind eyes and gentle voice had you sniffling, trying to stop the tears.

"Y…Y/n.."

"We’re gonna help you, ok?" He offered reassuringly as he and his partner inched closer.

"Winchesters," The demon growled at the newcomers.

"Yeah, Crowley called us to come take out the trash. Guess he decided he didn’t need an idiot like you topside after all." The demon tried to lurch at Dean, but in a moment of epiphany you threw your weight backwards, trying to keep him from attacking your rescuers.

"Bitch!" He roared, he stumbling and falling down next to you on the ground. A scream wrenched itself from your throat as your shoulder smashed into the concrete. A sickening pop echoed loudly as your body followed his down. Fruitlessly, you tried to scramble away again despite the blinding pain. His eyes flashed black and he tried to grab your throat again, allowing the Winchesters to get close. 

In a flurry of movement, Dean and the demon went at one another. With one arm otherwise occupiedhowever, Dean had him down in a second. Sam immediately began the exorcism, the foreign words seeming to rise in timbre as he went on.

You looked on in confusion at the scene before you, all thoughts of pain fading. The long haired guy was the tallest man you’d ever met, and the strangeness as he towered over this messy cluster on the ground was overwhelming. The man you were attached to still wrestled angrily against the third man, arms and legs flopping everywhere as you tried to keep your distance. Every blow landed by either of them jerked you painfully.

Before you knew it, black smoke accompanied by a loud scream left the body you were attached to, and his arm gracelessly fell away from yours. The second you were free you scrambled away, rubbing at your tattoo before grabbing your shoulder. The tattoo was red and burned badly, but the sting was nothing compared to the shooting pain under your hand.

"What...the...fuck?" You managed to sputter as you eyed the still body that had just been screaming and writhing. "What did you _do_ to him?" Fear was starting to creep back in as you came to the conclusion that they had just killed someone in-front of you. 

"He was a demon sweetheart. And that," He motioned at your burned arm, "Is a devil’s trap."

"A…A what?" You asked, shock overtaking fear as the taller one helped you to your feet. He smiled softly as you winced, almost as if he was holding back laughter. 

"A devil’s trap. It’s something people like us use to trap demons. Why the hell would you get a tattoo like that on your arm?"

"I…" You looked down at your burned skin numbly before returning the shorter one’s gaze. He looked like he was fighting laughter too. "I just wanted to piss off my boss." At his incredulous look you continued, "I found it in a friend of mine’s book. Protection spells or something like that. I thought it looked cool and my boss is an asshole so…"

Dean’s sudden booming laughter made you jump, but after a second you relaxed and let a giggle go. 

"Maybe next time do a little bit more research before putting something like that in your skin, yeah?"

You nodded, suppressing the sudden urge to vomit as the pain throbbed again. For a moment it didn’t matter that you were probably fired now, that your shoulder was out of place, or that you had a third degree burn on your arm.

The absurdity of the day was setting in now that the danger had passed, and you were still sure that you had gone crazy at some point. Or maybe it was all a dream... You pinched yourself, much to the chagrin of the Winchesters. 

_Nope not dreaming._

So, demons were real apparently, you were standing in an abandoned warehouse with what looked like dried blood on the floor, and it was coming to your attention that the men who’d rescued you were insanely gorgeous.

"I can pop that back in," The taller one offered, motioning to your shoulder, "And we’ve got a first aid kit in the car for that burn. You wanna get outta here?" You nodded up at him, your brain fuzzy as it continued to reel.

Yep...You’d officially gone insane, but if these men were your orderlies, you decided you'd happily skip your way to the nuthouse. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> Feedback is life.


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